


Mutual Masturbation

by Morpheel



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Gender Dysphoria, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Penetrative Sex, Tom basically borrows Tord's dick, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transitioning, trans tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 09:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheel/pseuds/Morpheel
Summary: As a side effect of his transition, Tom's hormones seem to be all over the place. Usually he can get a good lay or fuck himself to quell the fire in his veins- yet dysphoria is a cruel bitch. He can't get off, not like this.Lucky for him Tord has the solutions to his problems, even if they're a bit unconventional.He needs to borrow Tord’s dick.





	Mutual Masturbation

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I just realized how ironic it is that I'm a trans guy but never wrote any representation in my stories. Time to fix that shit, lmao.  
> Every transitioning experience is different, but I based this off of my boyfriend and one of my school friend's experiences, since they're bottoms like Tom is in my stories. So yeah, hope you enjoy!

_“Fuck…”_

_Tord could hear it- the soft breathing rising from the thin walls just on the other side of his headboard. Usually the problem with volume in the household came from the loud television or Tom’s base raising a ruckus, not from…this._

_This was something Tord wasn’t prepared to handle._

_The lack of insulation in the house was never as much of an issue as it’s been now. The thin walls were just another mild inconvenience, nothing to really dwindle on._

_Except when the quiet of the house settled in the dead of night, a strange atmosphere formed. The usual hustle and bustle made way to dead silence, where even the sound of a wooden beam cracking could be audible all the way from the kitchen._

_The sound of rattling bottles of the fridge and closing of cabinets was the most common background noises between the hours of 1 A.M to 5, socked footsteps treading lightly to avoid stirring the other inhabitants of the house._

_Yet this was a background noise that clearly wasn’t conscious- at least not openly so._

_“Shit…”_

_Tord’s head fell back into the pillow as just behind his head Tom was quietly speaking, hardly aware of his doing so, and even less privy to the knowledge of the audience that sat awake with him at 3 A.M. Paired with the soft breathing of the man, there was the quiet hum of music that accompanied the equally quiet moans of whatever choice porno he was watching._

_Everything was so quiet, but far too loud in the Norwegian’s ears._

_He tried to turn over, to close his eyes and forget the knowledge that their friend was jerking off in the other room. It was nothing taboo; everyone in the house jerks off one way or another, it was just a fact of life._

_Maybe it was the fact it was Tom that was getting off in the other room that had Tord so affected._

_The asshole who always tried to make his life a living hell, an antagonistic man with his snarky attitude and drunken shenanigans, and the spitfire that would never fail to bring Tord to the brink of pulling his hair out._

_He pulled the pillow over his head when another breathy exhale left Tom, followed shortly by a curt whimper that was quickly stifled by…something. He could only imagine._

_And what an imagination Tord had._

  * \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



Shit. It wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough, not since his first few doses of testosterone.

When he wasn’t dealing with the insistent growth pains traveling through his muscles or the crack to his voice- it was the insistent fire consistently burning between his legs as his body adjusted to the new hormone dosage his doctor prescribed him with.

There were times he legitimately felt as though he grew so hot, that the fire would threaten to melt him straight to his core.

He was told it was normal for the lower dosage to cause these peaks of arousal and sexual interest, yet…he took the words of his friends lightly, knowing that he wasn’t always privy to sexual encounters in the first place. He’d be fine, he said.

He wasn’t fine.

His body was still on full production when it came to the wetness between his legs, his fingers parting open his folds and trailing lazily up to the sensitive bud at the peak of his sex. Just a jolt of his fingers against his clit had Tom throwing his head back, hand flying up to cover his mouth to stifle the needy keen leaving him.

A part of him almost wished someone would hear and put him out of his misery. Preferably with a bullet, however.

His fingers couldn’t stop moving, even as oversensitivity had his legs squirming within the thin sheet keeping his modesty. He wanted to pull his hands back, rip away from the overstimulation and put an end to his arousal.

Yet it was a dysphoria day.

He couldn’t bear the thought of anything filling him, the sensation drawing him close to a full blown panic attack. Usually he was able to close his eyes and enjoy the sensations of what sex had to offer him, yet today was not one of those days.

That left him with his fingers, his will, and a shitty rendition of a porno that clearly was a tad too straight for his tastes. He liked tits as much as the next guy, and the sight of her getting plowed was definitely helping to quell his arousal at the thought of fucking her- but it just wasn’t working the usual magic it did.

He tensed up as another pleasure-less wave of slick came from him in orgasm, eyes squeezing shut as an anguished sound pulled from his throat. He was breathing hard by the time he managed to come down, white shirt rising and falling on his sweat soaked chest.

His head fell to the side as the phone dropped from his palm, fingers pulling away from his clit in favor of rubbing open his labia. He hated the feeling of how wet he was, slightly beading through his blue boxers. His body was all over the place right now, and it had his eyes squeezing shut as he felt the burning only increase once more.

He hated it.

Any time he attempted to move his fingers back towards his entrance, the wave of dysphoria only grew worse until he was muffling a frustrated shout into the palm of his hand. The phone was forgotten as he rolled onto his stomach, hips pushing down onto the sheets in search of any form of sensation.

He wanted nothing more than to have just been born with the right fucking junk.

He could be halfway to the bar by now, picking up some eager blonde to pin down and fuck into the sheets. No, instead he had to sit here, alone and uncomfortable in his own skin as he imagined the countless unsatisfying bouts within the sheets with previous girls who would never seem him as more than another lesbian with a strap-on.

Tom wanted to cry, face burying into his pillow as he yelled in frustration. Slamming his fist into the pillow, Tom hated the sensations of humping down into the overly soft fabric between his legs. It wasn’t enough, not even close.

Finally he tossed the pillow against the side of the wall, head coming back to connect with his headboard with a loud thunk. He was on the verge of tears as he pulled his knees to his chest, fingers tangling within his hair despite the lingering wetness on them.

A voice cut through his train of thoughts, breathless and ragged on the other side of the wall.

“Tom, are you uh…okay?”

It was Tord.

By the tone of his voice, it was clear that the Norski heard absolutely everything that had happened on the other side of their thin walls. Whether or not he knew the dysphoria and discomfort Tom felt in his own skin was up for debate, but the thought of that douchebag trying to crawl into his pants once more left him feeling vaguely irritated and annoyed.

His tone was wrecked as he slammed his fist into the back of the wall, clearly dripping ire as he said, “Fuck off, commie. I’m not in the mood for your shit right now.”

There was silence on the other end, before Tord settled back into his sheets, a gruff sigh leaving him. “Whatever. Just keep it down, I’m trying to sleep.”

Fuck that guy. Tom hated him with every ounce of his being.

He had everything- looks, money, smarts, popularity; he was everything Tom wanted to be but couldn’t. He had rolling muscles that fit his taller frame nicely, and a squared jaw that could cut diamond against if he put his mind to it. He hated the confidence in his eyes, the way he walked with his broad shoulders squared and his eyes facing forward like he knew the world wouldn’t stand in his way.

He hated him so much, and hated that he could never be that way. Even if he tried, he would never be able to grow past 5’4, or possibly even get the muscle mass he so desperately wanted. His growth plates had already closed by the time he managed to get out of his smothering foster parent’s care, their belittling words still haunting him to this day.

Even if he had the beginning of stubble lining his cheeks, his face remained soft and round, still shaping out from the testosterone but nothing like he had expected. He looked in the mirror and still could only see Tamara staring back at him, the dead name haunting him within his head.

He sobbed into his arm, hand once more flying down to try and rub his frustrations away to no avail. The sensations along his clit were too much, oversensitivity making his thighs shake and tremble as his pointer and middle trapped the bud between their hold and rubbed.

Tom just wanted to wear himself out so he could sleep, but the prospect was so far away it seemed out of his grasp. He bit at his lower lip as his head threw to the side, another lewd pant leaving him as he couldn’t even find the beginnings of an orgasm buildup.

Finally he was pulling his hand out of his boxers, defeat clear on his features. Dysphoria was mixing too strongly with his arousal, and it made the aspect of fixing either impossible.

That is…

He forced himself to slide up the headboard of his bed, knuckles moving to rap against the wall a few times. It had been no more than five minutes since Tord offered to help, and there was no way that he was asleep yet.

So Tom threw his legs over the side of the bed, brows furrowed in determination as he wiped the remaining slick away onto his boxers. He was already debauched as it was, did it really matter at this point?

So he made his way out of the room to move to the door just adjacent to his, long since converted from a flooded mess back into some semblance of a room. He knocked on the door a few times, and when once more no response rose up from the other side, Tom decided to say fuck it. Tord barged in enough as it was with the intention of relocating to his lab, so he could return the favor.

He cracked open the door to peek inside; glad to see the only lighting being the T.V. being on the other side of the room. While the show was muted, Tom could practically hear the high pitched screeches of the anime girls on the screen getting plowed with tentacles. Ugh.

Tom scrunched up his nose at how tasteless the display was, until his attention was drawn to the other inhabitant of the room. Tord’s cheeks were flushed, expression just as wrecked as Tom as silver eyes widened in the dim lighting of the room. His shirt was off, leaving the insufferable curve of his muscles on full display to be seen. Tom clenched his fists at the sight, before looking away when he realized the covers were doing nothing to cover the very much bare lower regions of the other. Instantly Tord was pulling his headphones out from his ear, hand flying down to pull the covers over his aching erection as he realized that Tom was standing just within his doorframe.

“Thomas!?” he sputtered out, trying to discreetly move his hand down and pull his cock flat against his stomach rather than pitching a tent in his covers. Of course the dude was getting off after being denied real sex. Just because they had something when he was Tamara, didn’t mean they had something now.

Tom narrowed his eyes, leaning his hip against the side of the door as he fixed Tord with a distasteful stare. “What, picking up chicks at the gym not quelling your sexual appetite yet?” he asked, tone dripping malice as he felt the edges of aggression licking past the arousal in his gut.

But Tord didn’t look offput by it, head downcasting in shame as he knew that Tom was aware just what caused the erection in the first place. And it definitely wasn’t the hentai bimbo getting railed on screen.

He sighed as he fixed Tom with a slightly annoyed stare when the man just stood in his door, neither leaving nor coming in. They were in stasis, like one movement could shatter the tense atmosphere in the air. “Tom, I just wanted to help you. I didn’t have any ulterior motives, as much as you want to make me out as a bad guy. If you needed help, I could give it to you.”

Tom narrowed his blank eyes. “Oh, what a saint you are. Trying to make up for the times you only saw me as a chick in bed? By offering to crawl back into my legs again?”

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a resolve that he refused to let crumble. Tord tensed up from where he was sitting on the bed, eyes turning over his shoulder to watch as the lock was clicked into place.

The punk noticed the flash of confusion within Tord’s eyes, followed quickly by a hint of hope when the bed dipped on the other side of the mattress. He made sure to extinguish the fire before it could even begin. “Don’t get your hopes up, norski. You’re not getting your dick wet.”

Tord’s lips pulled into a sharp line, clearly wanting to say something in return- but refusing to the second he properly could make out Tom’s expression in the dim shadows of the room. He could see the tension in his eyes, the slight crinkle to his nose that only appeared when he was distressed.

With a sigh Tord allowed his hand to move, not caring about the way his cock bobbed back to life as he buried his face into his palms. He slid them down his face, rubbing away the irritation as he did so. “Alright then. Why did you come into my room and sit on my bed then.”

Tom didn’t make eye contact with him, sitting on the very edge on the far side of the bed as he stared down at his hands. Why did he come to Tord, when he knew that sex was the last thing on his mind?

Perhaps it was the lingering comfort he could still pull from their past relationship, as badly as it had ended when he left for the city and disappeared conveniently after Tom came out to him.

But he knew the real reason, and there was no use dodging around it as he turned back to Tord with a quiet determination in his eyes. “If you really want to help me, then just let me take the lead. If all you want is a hole to fuck I’ll pack up and get out of your room right now, but if you actually were sincere in your offer for help, just trust me.”

There was a quiet stand-off happening between them, where silver met black and the quiet of the house only became more apparent. This time there was no porno playing, no music, no soft pants and longing sighs. Just the thick silence hanging between them as Tord considered his options here.

Finally the stone cold of his gaze cracked, melting at the edges as he took in the wrecked expression in his once-lovers face.

He let his arms drop as he leaned against the edge of the bed, motioning towards himself as if presenting a feast. “Well then go right ahead. I trust you- so long as you don’t try to rim me or eat my ass or something weird like that.” He tacked on at the end, a broken chuckle leaving him as he rested his hands behind his head.

With consent established, and Tord making a show of leaving himself open and available, Tom let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding in as he felt comfortable enough to turn his body back to Tord once more. He studied the planes of his chest, abs tensing under his stare as his eyes finally landed on the sheet barely covering the expanse of his cock.

He swallowed as his hands moved to the hem of the fabric, pulling it down and showing the lagging sight of Tord’s arousal. It was just as thick and wide as he remembered, the head already an angry red at being denied the pleasure it no doubt was receiving previously.

Tom’s finger slowly trailed up a vein, feeling it throb in response to the motion. With a shallow swallow of his nerves, he surprised Tord by the way that he threw his legs over the side of his waist. He faced away from the man regardless, his back meeting Tord’s chest as he settled comfortably back.

His hands slid underneath his boxers, taking the fabric with them as he lifted each leg one by one to pull them off. He felt uncomfortable from how bare he was, but quickly pushed aside his transgressions. Placing the boxers down, he let himself lag back down into Tord’s chest.

Tom held the base of Tord’s cock in his hand as he lowered himself down…to find comfortable purchase on the base of the shaft, rather than pushing it inside of him. He let the head slide against his clit on the way down, jolting at the feeling of warm flesh parting the lips of his pussy. He settled there comfortably, with Tord’s cock quickly hardening as he cradled the underside of his shaft against his palm.

From this vantage point, it almost seemed as if that was his own cock peeking through brown curls. The sight of it was exactly what Tom needed. He watched as Tord’s cock shifted and moved as he rolled his thumb up the front, fingers wrapping around it and relishing in the silky smooth skin sliding against his palm as he did so.

His palm wasn’t exactly wet enough for comfortable friction, so he smeared his fingers across Tord’s head before spitting into his palm to jerk spit and pre along the shaft once more. He sighed as he shifted his hips, cunt throbbing painfully as he allowed his eyes to fall shut.

Every time he slid his palm up and down Tord’s cock, Tom rolled his own hips forward, clit slightly brushing against the base as he did so. It was hardly any sensation, given he couldn’t hump down hard without fear of breaking Tord’s cock, but it was better than what he was trying to do previously.

He could get his dysphoria to quell for now, able to part open his eyes and watch as Tord’s hips canted with each lazy stroke of Tom’s hand. He heard the heavy breathing of his partner behind him, a small smile quirking onto his face as his fingers came up to pinch the head between tight fingers.

Tord’s head fell back with a thump at that, his arms shifting carefully to cover his groan at the feeling of his cock painfully throbbing for release. “You’re fuckin’ killing me here.” He stated, voice strained in a way that had excitement running through Tom’s veins. While his grip kept Tord from cumming, his hand idly moved along the head of his cock, enjoying the feeling.

“Perhaps you should work on your tolerance, if you’re already about to cum this quickly.” Tom suggested, his hips rolling forward as he heard a broken growl rumble from the Norwegian’s chest. He swallowed down his next words as he felt Tord’s arms shift, before stopping right at Tom’s thighs as he seemed to consider it.

“I, uh…Can I?” Tord asked after a tense pause, hands hovering right at the cleft of Tom’s thigh and leg. It shouldn’t have warmed Tom so much to see basic consideration coming from the egotistical narcissist, yet it did, and that alone had Tom shifting back just enough to buck his hips up and give clear access for Tord to touch.

And touch he did.

Tom tilted his head to the side as calloused hands traveled up the expanse of his leg, sweat sliding over his palms as he felt the coarse hair decorating Tom’s thighs. It suited Tom far better than when he was halfheartedly shaving.

He moved his nose down into the crook of Tom’s neck, enjoying the subtle musk that clung to him from his exertions previously. He pressed a slow kiss to the back of his ear. “You can talk when you’ve been pushed to the edge by the sounds of an attractive man in the other room jerking it himself.” Tord teased, before Tom felt his cheeks heat up at the compliments.

What really got him was the sudden surprise of feeling Tord’s finger travel down to the front of his pussy, pressing down firmly in a way that his cock couldn’t. His hand paused in its strokes as he felt a full body shiver travel down his spine, mouth parting open into a pleased sigh as Tom arched his hips up into the touch.

His hand sped up as Tord rubbed, as if he was jerking himself off with the feelings that crashed down through him. His hips couldn’t keep still as he tried to contain his short breath, shoulders rising and falling as his overstimulation and dysphoria blossomed into…actual pleasure.

The faster he moved his wrist along his “cock”, the faster Tord would move his own fingers against his clit. It was harmonious in a way, with their bodies steadily melting together as Tom arched his back the closer he felt to an actual orgasm.

Already he could tell it would be a strong one. From how Tord was breathing, he was feeling much the same as pre nearly soaked through Tom’s hand. He gave the head a teasing squeeze and laughed when Tord’s fingers came to a halt, before picking up twice as fast. “Don’t do that unless you want me to cum.” He warned, tone husky as his grin upturned twice as wide at Tom’s reaction.

What finally broke the dam was when Tom moved his head up, pressing himself underneath Tord’s chin, voice husky with lust as his smile framed the edge of Tord’s jaw. “Maybe I want you to.”

The feeling of strong arms wrapping around Tom could be described as pure bliss, held tight against his old lover’s chest as warm splatters of cum painted his lower stomach without warning. He could feel the semen pooling from the tip onto his gut, cooling steadily even as his body heat reached overdrive.

With a shout Tom was following immediately after, driven over the edge by Tord’s fingers. He felt as though he were floating on cloud nine as waves of heat left him, cunt clenching down tight as he felt the remaining bits of cum dribble out onto his stomach from Tord’s cock.

He spared a slow glance down to the sight, tongue darting out to slowly wet his mouth. His fingers rose from Tord’s shaft to the front of his stomach where he wiped a line up, inspecting it with a small crinkle to his nose. “Thanks.” He muttered, completely joking as instead he grabbed the sheets at his side to pull them to his gut and rub.

When he cum was cleared from his stomach, Tom eyed where his blue boxers landed. They were sitting at the footrest of the bed, far out of his current reach.

Fuck it.

He grabbed the covers once again, this time pulling them over the two and turning over in the firm grip of Tord. He had lightened up his grip when he was sure Tom would be leaving his room now that he seemed to be sated.

However, Tord very much did not expect Tom to nestle his head into the cleft of his chest, silver eyes widening in surprise. Yet Tom didn’t acknowledge this, refusing to look up at Tord lest his wounded pride show through. Instead he wrapped his arms around the bulk of Tord’s chest, a small sigh pushing through his nose as he did so.

“Night,” Is all that Tom said, and just that alone had Tord’s heart borderline melting. Fucking Christ, he was too cute. He buried his nose into the soft bout of curls that seemed to fly in all different directions, not held together by product in this moment.

He couldn’t resist pulling in a deep breath, before settling back into the sheets as his hand felt for the remote for the T.V. With a single press the room was bathed in darkness, leaving the two bunched up together in the afterglow.

Refusing to dwell on the resurface of old feelings, Tord let his eyes shut and sleep take him.

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh this was kind of choppy to read, but I'm too tired to give a fuck and change it. I figure someone will like it, even if I'm not personally liking how it flows.


End file.
